


Woollen Socks

by casknows



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys Kissing, Castiel in the Bunker, Cute, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, hidden love, maybe still to come, supernatural bunker au, wel nearly, woollen socks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casknows/pseuds/casknows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has been shopping and comes back to a worried Dean, bearing socks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Woollen Socks

**Author's Note:**

> So far this is just a drabble, however it may develop into something more- if I ever decide to get off my arse and start being productive, so keep an eye out for that folks. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!

Snow fell thickly around Castiel as he trudged slowly back to the bunker, his hands were covered in thick gloves which seemed however to do nothing against the biting cold that gnawed at his fingers. In one hand he clutched a shopping bag, his fingers curled stiffly around the handle, the other was shoved into his coat pocket in an attempt to keep warm. This being human business was not as he had imagined and it was mildly disappointing to remember the times when he didn’t even know what the cold felt like. The flakes were thick and fell fast from the dark sky, and Castiel squinted to see through the whirlwind of tiny, angry pieces of nature that would probably be the culprit of awarding him yet another cold.

After a while Castiel reached the big crooked tree that marked the nearness of the bunker, his pace quickened in relief and he hurried the last few meters to the hidden doorway which had been nearly covered in snow when he had left, but was now clear; though the snow was quickly starting to cover it again. Dean was standing next to the oak door, his hands shoved deep inside his coat and Sam’s violently green and red crocheted hat – a present from Charlie, was pulled down over his head. A small pile of snow sat neatly atop the bobble.

“Dean! What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!”

“I’m well aware of the arctic temperatures Cas” Dean’s voice was muffled as Castiel worriedly pulled the collar of Dean’s coat up and over the bottom half of his face.

“Sam was worried you’d get lost or at the very least snowed out so I came out here to humour him and clear the doorway.”

“Why didn’t Sam clear it then?”

“Uhm,” Dean stared somewhat searchingly at Castiel’s face for a moment before coughing and grabbing the shopping bag from his grip.

“Come on, it’s cold.” He said gruffly and promptly shoved the door open and tramped inside. Cas stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at Dean’s retreating back and trying to brush off the look on Dean’s face before he shook his head and stepped inside.

The bunker was toasty warm inside and after slowly (the thawing of his limbs was taking a while) taking off his coat and shoes Castiel padded into the kitchen, following the sound of his purchases being dumped on the table and Sam’s voice asking after him.

“I wasn’t lost.” Castiel announced as he entered, causing Sam to turn around and grin at him. He waved a spatula good-naturedly in Castiel’s direction, “I never thought you were Cas, - Dean on the other hand…” Castiel turned to look at Dean, who was bent over the kitchen table engrossed in the shopping. Turning back to look at Sam, Castiel just caught his smile and raised eyebrow before Sam turned back to his cooking.

“Cas, you bought socks?” Dean held up a pair of bright red woollen socks, adorned with little white bobbles.

“Well yours have holes in so I thought…” Castiel drifted off and just stared pointedly at Dean’s big toe, which protruded from a large hole in his right sock. He hadn’t fully warmed up from the cold yet, and the fact that Dean had fibbed about Sam worrying about him as some kind of excuse to wait for him outside was somewhat befuddling.

Dean glanced down at his socks, which did indeed seem to possess more holes than that of the last vampire that they had encounetered, and then back to the violently coloured, Christmassy creations in his hand. He nodded.

“Thanks Cas.”

That was all he said before shuffling from the kitchen and heading to the living space, but there was something in his voice that seemed to Cas as if he had brought him a lot more than socks.


End file.
